


Into The Bloody Water

by anysin



Series: Therapy AU [6]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Abusive Police, Abusive Relationships, Blackmail, Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dissociation, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Face Slapping, Facials, Filming, Gangbang, Handcuffs, Healing Sex, Heavy Angst, Humiliation, Hunters & Hunting, Kidnapping, Knotting, M/M, Mind Meld, Multi, Oral Knotting, Psychological Trauma, Rimming, Rough Sex, Slut Shaming, Suicidal Thoughts, Threats, Twisted Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25267789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/pseuds/anysin
Summary: Faced with a police officer out to blackmail him, Jon discovers that he is ready to do anything to protect Elias.Ch. 4: Elias arrives to the rescue, and he and Jon deal with the fallout.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Original Male Character(s), Jonathan Sims/The Hunt
Series: Therapy AU [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1515473
Comments: 68
Kudos: 111





	1. Caught In The Act

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings, this story will be dark and intense for Jon but there will be comfort in the end. (Well, twisted kind in the style of this AU, but in any case.)

The therapist's office still looks cozy and comfortable. Jon barely has time to take his coat off and put his bag on the floor when Elias is already moving towards him, reaching out to grab Jon by his wrist. He pulls Jon over to him, wrapping an arm around him as he leans down and claims Jon's lips for a deep kiss, pushing his tongue briskly into Jon's mouth, as if he owns it. Maybe he does, in some way.

 _I missed you,_ Jon wants to say, but instead he opens up beneath Elias's lips, allowing Elias to explore him, pressing up against Elias's body. Elias is already hard, his cock pressing up against Jon through their clothing, making Jon shiver.

"I've missed this," Elias whispers when the kiss ends, resting his forehead against Jon's. "I should have arranged this so much sooner. We have a lot of catching up to do, but I'd say this is a good start." Elias tightens his hold around Jon's waist, cupping the side of his face with his free hand. "Fridays are good for you?"

"They're perfect," Jon says, shivering again as Elias's thumb brushes over his lower lip. "Listen, I think I could even spend a night over here sometimes. I can just tell my grandmother-"

"Best not push our luck too much, Jon. Although I do want to be with you." Elias kisses him on his forehead, then on the tip of his nose. "God, Jon, you feel so good. Did you bring the lube?"

"Yes." Jon has been nervous about carrying it with him all day at school, although it's wrapped in napkins and tucked into the very bottom of his bag. It's just that he can't always trust people not to snoop into his belongings when his back is turned. "Is this a real therapist's office?" he asks, licking his tingling lips. Elias was just so forceful, so needy.

"Yes." Elias presses his face into Jon's hair, breathing him in as he lets his hands wander upon Jon's body, feeling him up through his clothing. He tugs Jon's shirt free from his trousers and slides his hands underneath it, stroking the bare skin of his back. "They work four days a week, I picked their day off for our meetings. We can be here at peace."

Jon wonders if that's really true, but although part of him is curious, he can't say he truly cares. They are finally together again, face to face, able to kiss and touch, and it's wonderful and overwhelming. He presses his head against Elias's chest as Elias takes his hands down to his belt, starting to unbuckle it. Elias wants him so much, he knows it. He has seen it, he has felt it.

"I'm glad for that," he whispers. "I've missed you so much."

He feels Elias smile against him, press a kiss into his hair.

"I've missed you too," Elias whispers back, kissing him again as he pulls Jon's belt open.

*

In theory, they could stay at the office for the whole afternoon, but Elias has to leave after an hour.

"Next week, Jon, I promise," Elias says to him, holding him tight before he makes Jon leave the office first.

"Next week," Jon replies, already full of longing.

It's a bright spring day outside, which doesn't match Jon's mood anymore, but at least it's pleasant to walk. He's already thinking about next week, how he should hide the lube better when he becomes aware of a car slowly driving by his side, tensing when he hears the window open.

"Good day, Sir," a man says from inside. "Could you please get into the car?"

Jon glances briefly to his side, eyes widening when he realizes that it's a police car. He doesn't stop, however, or even slow down. "I want to hear what I've done," he says, not looking at the officer inside.

The officer just laughs.

"Sir, unless you want your boyfriend to get into trouble, you best get into the car right now," he says, and Jon almost doesn't hear the car stop through the sudden humming in his ears.

Jon doesn't hesitate; without a word, he walks around the police car and gets on its other side, opening the front door. He slips onto the front seat and pulls the door shut, his mouth dry and his heartbeat thick in his throat.

"Thank you," the officer says. "If you'd put the seat belt on, Sir?"

As Jon does as he's told, he glances up at the officer. It's a little hard to tell inside the car, but the man seems to be tall with broad shoulders and chest, with close-cropped hair and a graying stubble peppering his jaw, and he's smiling at Jon in a manner that is probably supposed to come off as warm. Jon shudders, settling against the seat as the officer starts to drive again.

"I don't know what you are talking about,” Jon says, keeping his voice calm. “I was seeing my therapist, we had a session."

"So you _did_ see someone," the officer notes, his smile shifting to a smirk. Jon curses himself instantly, but he doesn't have time for anger as the officer goes on: "Therapist, you say. So if I took you to the station and had you examined right there and then, I wouldn't find anything incriminating from you?"

Jon freezes. He and Elias have just fucked; Elias wiped away his semen the best he could, but Jon has no idea if there is still some left inside him. He struggles to come up with an excuse, anything, but the officer keeps going:

"I can smell it all over you, boy. You and your boyfriend had a good time in your little room, just like you had a good time with a whole bunch of men back at that cargo ship." The officer glances down at Jon, his smirk disappearing. "Don't think I haven't seen you around. Whenever something unusual happens around here, you are there, chatting up with people, getting your nose into their business. I know what you're doing. You're looking for punters."

"That's not true!" Jon shouts, face burning. This man thinks he's selling himself! But worse, he was obviously referencing The Tundra; how long has he been watched? Just how badly has he been failing Elias?

God, this can't be happening! He has to fix this, he has to!

"And yet you know you'd fail a medical examination," the officer says, the smile returning to his face. This time, it's openly vicious. "Boy, it's over for you. You have been caught, and now you need to give me a reason to not turn you and your boyfriend in."

Jon can't say anything. He is terrified; he has been careless and sloppy, and now Elias is in danger. He wants to close his eyes, pretend that he isn't happening, but he knows from experience that these things won't help him; the only choice he has is to keep going. "What do you want from me?" he asks, trying his hardest to keep his voice from trembling.

The officer goes quiet. He reaches out with his big hand and rests it down on Jon's knee, giving it a light squeeze. Slowly, he drags it along Jon's thigh, stroking him until he reaches Jon's loins. He lets his hand rest right there near Jon's groin, while the tremors that Jon tried to hold back so hard break through his body.

"I want to play a game with you," the officer says, his voice soft. "We will go to the woods tonight, and you will run. If you make it to the other side untouched, I will forget any of this ever happened. If you don't, I get to do whatever I want with you."

Jon can't help it; he closes his eyes, squeezing them shut as he tries to calm his breathing, his hammering heart. He knows what it means if he gets caught; he knows what the fingers rubbing the inside of his thigh mean. He thinks about the old breathing exercises that Elias taught him, forces himself to follow one, forces himself to stay in his body.

He opens his eyes, and finds that the car has stopped. The officer's hand has slid all the way back to his knee, but it's still heavy on him, and meaningful. Jon swallows, taking few more breaths before saying:

"All right."

He is ready to do anything for Elias.


	2. The Most Dangerous Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon plays the officer's game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has Jon getting terrorized in the woods, plus rough noncon with rimming, choking and knotting.

The officer drives Jon home, knowing exactly where to take him.

"I'll come pick you from here around six o'clock," he says, his voice cheerful. His hand isn't on Jon's knee anymore, but Jon can still feel its phantom there, and he can't stop trembling inside. "What will you tell your grandmother?"

Jon's stomachs sinks further at those words; just how much does this man know about him? How much does he know about Elias? "I'll be staying at my friend's place," he says, swallowing. It doesn't ease the tightness in his throat.

"Sounds good." The officer slaps his hand down on Jon's knee again, giving him a squeeze. "Looking forward to our evening together."

Jon has to fight not to be hasty when he leaves the car, making sure not to look behind him as he walks over to the front door.

His grandmother is in the living room when he comes inside, reading.

"How was school?" she asks him, not lifting her eyes from the book.

"It was all right." Thankfully enough, he doesn't sound like he's terrified out of his mind. "Say, do you mind if I spend a night at Malcolm's again?"

God, he doesn't know what he'll do if his grandmother says no. She glances up from the book this time, looking at him.

"Not at all," she says, although she looks a little puzzled. "It's a little sudden, though."

"Yeah, we just had the idea today." *Please don't ask anything.* "We, we can do it some other time," he adds, failing to sound casual.

"It's fine, Jon, I was just wondering," his grandmother assures him, and relief sinks into Jon when she smiles at him. "When will you be leaving?"

"In the evening, so I'll be here for dinner and for whatever you need me," Jon says, feeling frantic. He hates that there is such a wait; it gives him too much time to think, for his fear to build up.

He knows it's the point. The statements that Elias has sent to him have featured a hunting theme more than once, so he knows it to be a force in this universe, and the officer obviously represents it. It's making him think of awful things - _is Elias responsible of this?_ \- but he is trying his best not to get distracted by them. He has to focus on what's happening right now so he can survive it.

"It's all right, Jon, I can handle myself here." His grandmother frowns, tilting her head to the side. "Are you all right? You seem a little quiet."

"Just thinking about things," Jon says, forcing a smile. "I'll be okay."

He has no idea if that's true.

*

When the evening comes, Jon leaves the house, freezing when he sees a strange brown Sedan parked on the street. He glances behind him to see if his grandmother is standing by the window, feeling both relieved and dismayed when he catches no sight of her; she will probably enjoy a night on her own, again. He turns and walks towards the car, clutching his bag.

He's so afraid, but he keeps approaching the car, even as his heartbeat gets faster and faster. He needs to do this for Elias.

As expected, the officer is inside the car, smiling at Jon as Jon opens the door and gets inside.

"What do you have in there?" the officer asks, nodding towards Jon's bag when Jon sets it in his lap.

"Sleepover things," Jon says, not in the mood to talk. He wants to get to the woods already, get this awful ordeal started. "First aid supplies," he adds, suspecting he probably can't afford to come off as too standoffish. He hopes that his grandmother won't notice that he has raided the medical cabinet, having no idea how he'll explain that.

The officer snorts. "Do you think I will hurt you?"

"Yes," Jon says, not even needing to think about it. The officer laughs at his response before turning his eyes towards the road, starting the car.

"Well, whether I do or not depends entirely on you," the officer says as the car lurches into movement. "All you need to do is to run fast enough, and if that fails, be sweet to me." He glances at Jon from the corner of his eye. "Do you think you can manage that?"

Jon glares at him, gritting his teeth.

"I'll do what it takes," Jon mutters, turning away as he closes his eyes. He can't let himself get carried away by anger; he needs all his adrenaline for the run ahead. He really doubts he has any sort of chance against his man, but he has to try at least. He takes in deep breaths again, trying to calm himself down.

"If you say so, love." Jon tenses when the officer's hand lands on his shoulder, fingers gripping down. "We'll see how fast you can go, soon."

The hand remains there until Jon shudders hard.

*

The woods are quiet when they arrive. They haven't exchanged any words since the beginning of their drive, partially by Jon's choice, which he regrets now; he's so nervous that he thinks he's going to vomit the moment he has to move. But when the car comes to a halt, Jon just swallows as he leans over to set his bag on the floor of the car and opens his seat belt, getting ready to leave the car.

"Hold on just a second," the officer says. "Put your hands behind your back and turn them to me."

Jon's stomach lurches. "Why?" he asks, the slightest crack working its way through his voice.

"Don't ask questions, just do it." The officer's voice is cold, as are his eyes when they meet Jon's. "Don't forget, I'm the one calling the shots here."

It's impossible to forget that. Biting his lip, Jon shifts around on the seat and puts his hands behind his back, trembling as he brings his wrists close together.

The sound of handcuffs clicking isn't exactly a surprise, but they make Jon's entire body tense anyway. "Please no!"

The officer says nothing; he grabs Jon by his arm and slips the cuff around his wrist, then the other and snaps them shut. The officer gives the cuffs a firm yank, pulling them tight against Jon's wrists before he leaves them be and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut as he walks over to Jon's side.

"Just to make things more interesting," he says to Jon with a smile as he opens Jon's door, opening it wide and stepping aside so Jon can get out. "I'm sure a clever thing like you appreciates a challenge."

"It's not fair!" They haven't even got started and Jon already feels like screaming, pulling his wrists uselessly against the steely cuffs. Knowing he has no other choice, he scrambles out of the car, almost collapsing onto the ground the moment he gets out, but he manages to stay on his feet, although he feels wobbly and awkward. He looks up at the officer, trying and failing to keep his lips from trembling.

"Life isn't fair," the officer says, still smiling. He reaches out for Jon's shoulders, grasping them tight as he turns Jon towards the footpath, leaning down to whisper into his ear:

"On the count of three, start running straight ahead. No detours, just straight ahead. I'll give you a head start of five minutes." His breath is hot against Jon's ear, and fast with excitement; it makes Jon shiver. "If you make it to the clearing, it's a happy ending for you. If you don't, you're mine." He pats Jon on the back before giving him a shove, almost sending him stumbling down to his knees.

"Three!"

Jon straightens up, his heart beating fast. He stares at the footpath ahead, his heart sinking when he sees that it takes a turn to the left only after a short while; what's straight ahead then is a thicket, one that looks hard enough to get through even if he had all his limbs for use. Terror washes through him, freezing his blood.

"Two!"

Jon steadies his feet against the ground, curls his hands into fists. He can barely breathe, but he _will_ do this.

"Go!"

Jon runs.

He dashes forward on the footpath, running as fast as he can until he reaches the thicket. He forces his way through the bushes and other growth, despair clenching at his chest as his pace immediately slows down and it gets harder to move forward, and with his hands trapped behind his back he has no way to protect his face against the low-hanging branches of the trees ahead. He tries to duck, but gets scratched in the face a couple of times anyway. Yet he keeps moving, not once looking back. He doesn't afford to look back.

All Jon can hear in his ears is his own heartbeat, so loud and thundering it makes his head pound.

He has just made his way to another path when he hears something from behind him, the slightest crack of a branch breaking and it makes him cry out loud, adrenaline spiking through him. He picks up his pace, running for his life while someone _jogs_ behind him, lazy and unhurried. It makes tears prick in his eyes; it’s not fair! This policeman is by all certainty supernatural, with stamina and speed that Jon can’t even hope to match. The officer is just playing with him, knowing he will easily catch him.

But Jon isn’t going to give up. His legs burn as he forces them to move faster, gasping as he feels the officer reach out and brush his fingertips against his ribs, letting him know just how close he is. Sick from fear now, Jon urges himself to move faster, approaching another thicket. But his chaser seems to tire of the game; within seconds, Jon finds himself falling as the officer slams into him from behind, sending him sprawling to the ground.

"No!" he shouts, trying to scramble up to his feet. He has almost succeeded in that when a large hand wraps around his ankle, giving him a harsh tug and sending him back to the ground again. Jon's breath is knocked out of him by the impact, stunning him for a moment, but he pushes himself, rolling over to his side and kicking out at the officer with his free leg. “Get away from me!”

“It’s over,” the officer sing-songs, not even bothering to hide his smugness. He grunts when Jon gets a kick in, his hold on Jon’s ankle loosening; taking his chance, Jon yanks his leg away from him and gets up on his knees, then to his feet. He is unsteady and wavering, but he starts to run again, heading towards the thicket.

The officer just laughs behind him, and this time Jon can hear the officer rush after him, his strides frightfully fast as he closes the distance between himself and Jon. Giving him a harsh shove on the shoulders, he sends Jon back to the ground once more, this time sitting on the backs of his legs before Jon has a chance to recover, twisting his fingers into Jon’s hair.

"It was a nice try, boy." The officer lifts Jon’s face up from the ground and leans down, bringing his mouth right next to Jon's ear: "Pathetic, but nice. But you lost."

"Please no," Jon pleads, although he knows it's no good; he has lost the game he never had a chance to win in the first place. He is exhausted and in pain, scared out of his mind, and alone with a Hunter who can and will do anything he wants to him now. "There has to be another way, please!"

The officer laughs in his ear, clasping Jon's throat with his other hand. He gives the shell of Jon's ear a lingering lick, squeezing his throat a bit before he starts to stand up, pulling Jon from his hair so he gets up as well.

"You lost the game," the officer repeats once Jon is standing up, pulling Jon against himself. He runs his hand down the front of Jon's body, from his throat to his chest to his stomach, feeling him up through his clothes until he reaches Jon's groin. He gives him a squeeze through his trousers and Jon whimpers, shaking all over. "Now, it's time to pay up."

There is a rustle, and soon something is drawn over Jon's eyes and pulled tight against his head, obscuring his vision. Jon knows better than to resist when another piece of fabric is brought over to his mouth, opening up as it's shoved in, tasting sour on his tongue.

He hears it as the officer circles around him, and soon he's lifted off the ground and up to the officer's shoulder. Jon can't help but imagine himself a skinned animal as he's carried off, a helpless weight, ready to be gutted.

All he can do is hope that he makes it out of this alive.

*

It's already dark behind the blindfold, but even so the car trunk is even darker. Jon doesn't try to kick at the hood, although every inch in his body demands him to do so; he has to do this for Elias. So he forces himself to lie as still and quiet as he can, listening to whatever sounds he can hear from inside the car. He wonders where they are going now. To the officer's home? Deeper into the woods? It's impossible to tell. Jon has no fucking idea what's going to happen.

He takes in deep, measured breaths, pushing the tension out of his body. The run in the forest was only the first part of his ordeal, after all. Whatever the officer has planned for him, Jon needs all his strength and wits with him.

Jon freezes when he hears his mobile ring.

As he lies in the trunk, heart thumping, the car stops. A second later, he hears the officer say: "Jon's phone, who am I talking to?"

Is it his grandmother? Is it Elias? The former, because the officer says: "So nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Sims. Yes, this is Malcolm's father. You can call me Harry." A pause. "The boys are in a grocery shop, we went out to get some food. I told Jon it was okay for him to leave his bag in the car, I thought he had his phone with him-?"

It disturbs Jon to listen to the phone call, how easily this man lies. He wonders again just how much the officer - Harry, or is that the name of Malcolm's father? - knows about him, about his grandmother, Elias, even Malcolm. He has been spying on Jon since the Tundra, he told Jon so himself. Just what can he _do_?

He tries his hardest to keep his breathing even, to keep himself from panicking, but it's not easy when the terror is choking him by now, making his eyes tear up.

"I'll tell him to be more careful, yes. But let me assure you, everything is all right here. Jon is such a good boy, I'm very glad that he and Malcolm are friends." The officer laughs with ease, his voice warm. "All right, good, I'll let him know. It was really nice talking to you, Mrs. Sims."

The officer falls silent, and the car starts to move again, indicating that the phone call is over.

But it's worse than that. Obviously, his grandmother has been reassured now; she thinks Jon is safely at Malcolm's, not in the middle of the unknown with a strange man. Nobody knows where Jon is; anything could happen to him now. He closes his eyes behind the blindfold, focusing on his breathing, making every inhale and exhale count. In, out, in, out.

He will live through this. He has to.

*

It's not long after the phone call that the car finally comes to a halt. Jon waits there frozen as the hood is opened, and the officer - Harry, he decides, he will call him Harry - reaches inside and gathers Jon into his arms, picking him up.

"Here we are," Harry whispers to Jon, propping him up against his chest with one arm as he slams the hood shut. "All alone."

Jon shudders, only barely managing to swallow his whimper. He doesn't resist as he's carried away from the car and into what he assumes is a house, hearing as the wooden floor creaks beneath Harry's sneakers. They stay on the first floor, which Jon supposes is a good thing; he can't try to run, but at least he isn't taken straight down to the basement, where his chances of being found are even worse. They walk through a doorway and soon Jon is lowered down onto his back on the bed, leaving his hands trapped beneath his own weight, after which Harry pulls his blindfold and gag off.

"Voila," Harry says, grinning at him from the side of the bed. "What do you think?"

It's already quite dark, but Jon can tell that nobody lives in his house. It looks clean enough, even has intact windows, but there is dust everywhere, the tapestry is shredded and the bare bits of the walls are covered in scribblings, and he can see from the window that the house is surrounded by a forest. Harry wasn't lying that they were all alone. Jon starts breathing faster again, a whine rising from his throat, which makes Harry chuckle and rest his hand down on Jon's cheek as he climbs up on the bed, looming over him.

"That's right. We have all the privacy we could ever want here." He strokes Jon’s cheek before sliding his hand down to Jon's throat, giving it a slight squeeze before grasping the top button of Jon's coat, pushing it through the hole. He unbuttons Jon's coat slowly, leaning down to press his nose against Jon's throat, sniffing him, breathing him in. "I'm going to enjoy myself with you."

Jon swallows, feeling nauseous. He thinks he might faint soon, but he struggles against the dizziness in his head; he has to stay within himself. "Is there any other way?" he asks, hating how small his voice sounds, how helpless.

"I'm afraid not, love." Harry pulls Jon's coat open and tugs his shirt free from his trousers, rolling it upwards to reveal his torso, then his chest. He nuzzles Jon's throat for a little while longer before taking his mouth over to Jon's chest, breathing on one pebbled nipple before dragging his warm, wet tongue over it. Jon squirms, his bound hands balling up into fists as Harry closes his lips around the nipple and sucks, running his other hand down Jon's side.

"I could," Jon starts to say, although he knows he has nothing to offer. Harry knows it too because he doesn't even listen to Jon, pressing his body down against Jon's as he scratches his nipple with his teeth, moving both of his hands down to the front of Jon's trousers. He unbuttons and unzips Jon's trousers and shoves them down, exposing his rump and thighs. Jon squirms again, panting a little as Harry does the same with his underwear. Harry pulls away from his nipple, giving it a light bite before he draws back to pull Jon's shoes off his feet, tossing them aside before tearing his trousers and underwear off his legs completely, leaving his entire lower body naked.

The moment Jon’s legs are free, he slams them shut, squeezing his thighs and calves together as he shakes.

“Come on now, don’t be like that,” Harry chides him. “I know what you’re like. You did this at the cargo ship, with the captain, with every sailor present. You do this with your punters, you do this with your fancy pimp.” Harry rests his hands on Jon’s knees, but he doesn’t try to pry them apart, leaning down instead as he stares Jon in the eye. “I didn’t bring you here to play house, boy. I brought you here so you can spread those pretty legs to me just like you’ve been spreading them around to everyone else. Remember what’s on the line.”

It’s insane to think that just a few hours ago, Jon saw Elias, kissed him and embraced him, held onto his neck as Elias rested him down on his desk. Lips trembling, Jon sets his feet wide apart, baring his genitals and arse, his soul to his tormentor. He lies there still, knowing he’s trapped.

“Good boy.” Harry’s smile is almost gentle as he settles down between Jon’s legs, grasping his buttocks. “Lift your legs on my shoulders.”

Shuddering, Jon does so, exposing himself even further in the process. He winces as his arse cheeks are parted, but it’s when Harry leans down and licks a stripe across his clenched, sensitive opening that Jon cries out, flinching hard. His toes curl, he almost kicks out, but he forces himself to be still, let it happen.

Harry starts to lick his hole, lapping it up with long, lingering strokes of his tongue, tracing the puckered flesh with the tip. Jon grits his teeth when Harry reaches out and gathers his cock into his grasp, starting to stroke it.

"Please," Jon begs, although he doesn't know what he's begging for. Mercy? He knows none is coming. For Harry to stop? He knows it won't happen. Indeed, Harry just strokes him harder, taking his other hand to Jon's now wet hole so he can start easing his thick finger inside him, pushing even as Jon tenses around him. Jon is panting, his nipples standing out hard on his chest while his cock throbs, hardening fast now. Harry keeps licking his hole while thrusting his finger in and out of him, fucking him open.

"You are so tight," Harry comments. "Sparing your arse, your lovers? How thoughtful of them." He presses his finger as deep inside Jon as it can go, crooking it hard. Jon clenches around him, breathing heavily as his cock stirs even more in Harry's grip, whimpering when Harry's rough thumb brushes over the head of his cock.

The finger withdraws, leaving Jon's hole twitching. Harry dips his tongue briefly inside him, licking around until he pulls away from his arse for good, releasing Jon's cock. As Jon stares at him with teary eyes, Harry unbuckles his belt and unfastens his trousers, pushing them and his underwear down past his hips. His cock is at full mast already, angry red and leaking from the tip; Harry leans over Jon, taking his cock into his hand as he drags its head down along Jon's stomach, leaving a sticky trail of pre-come on his skin.

"I have been waiting for this," Harry says in a hoarse voice. He lets their cocks brush together for one split second before he grabs Jon by his knees, forcing his legs up to his chest, leaving him spread and exposed. He slings Jon's legs over his shoulders, thrusting against Jon's arse, rubbing his cock against Jon's hole. "Waiting to ravage your slutty little arse."

Pressing his cock against Jon's hole, Harry thrusts forward, breaching him. Jon can't stop himself from screaming; Harry is so huge and they only have spit for the lube, it hurts and he thrashes, unable to help it. Harry doesn't care, resting one hand on Jon's throat again while grasping Jon's hip with another, holding him still as he starts to work his way inside Jon with sharp, jerking thrusts. Jon keeps crying out first, but by the time Harry is balls deep inside him Jon can't make a sound anymore, only gasping as Harry's thick cock throbs, burns inside him.

"Jesus," Harry whispers, his eyes sliding shut. He drops his head next to Jon's on the pillow, squeezing his throat as he rocks his hips against Jon's, his huge cock inching back and forth within Jon. Jon whimpers at the sensation, shaking all over, fingers curled up so tight against his palms he thinks he might be bleeding.

Harry grunts, his hold on Jon's throat tightening even more as he starts to thrust, soon picking up a fast, brutal pace that has Jon crying out over every thrust, or at least trying to with the hand on his neck. It's awful, but Harry goes in deep, his cock brushing against Jon's prostate with every thrust, making sure that his cock stays erect and poking against Harry's slightly soft stomach. Jon can't keep his tears from falling, soft sobs escaping him as Harry fucks him hard, the bed shaking beneath them.

"You like that?" Harry asks, slamming into him. "You like that, you little whore?"

Jon wants to shake his head, but he remembers what's on the line: Elias, Elias and his safety, their future together. Harry's fingers around his throat tighten and Jon gags, but he forces himself to nod, even as it makes him shake even harder.

"I knew you would. It's all over your face, your thirst for cock." The fingers ease their hold a bit and Harry leans close to Jon's face, until their mouths almost touch. "Say it to me, love. Tell me that you love cock."

"I love cock," Jon repeats, swallowing a sob. He hates himself.

"Tell me that you're a whore," Harry demands, angling his hips a little bit so he can drive even deeper inside Jon, slam his cock against his prostate even harder. Jon gasps, his toes and fingers both curling up as unwanted pleasure shudders through him, making his cock leak.

"I'm a whore," he says, blinking back tears. It doesn't keep them from falling, streaking down his cheeks. Harry laughs, resting his forehead against Jon's, breathing harshly as he keeps pounding into him, stroking his thumb along Jon's neck.

"Good that you know your place," Harry whispers, staring Jon right in the eye before inching his mouth downward, until he's kissing Jon.

A wave of disgust shudders through Jon, making him wail in his throat before he realizes what he's doing. It just makes Harry laugh, his tongue thrusting into Jon's mouth as he squeezes Jon's throat again, fucking him harder and harder.

Harry is still kissing Jon when he comes, shoving his cock all the way inside and filling Jon with his warm spunk. But he doesn't stop just there; Jon has assumed that the thick, bulging thing that has been bumping against his hole has just been Harry's scrotum, pulled tight, but now Harry starts to push it inside him, making Jon scream as it stretches him wide open. 

"Stop!" Jon shouts, gagging when Harry's fingers tighten around his throat. He kicks at Harry's back, trying to get him off. "Please stop!"

All he gets for his efforts is laughter, then a wet kiss on his forehead as the bulge slides all the way inside him, plugging him up. Harry collapses on top of him once the bulge is inside, squeezing the last of Jon's breath out of him and still gripping his throat, and for a moment Jon is certain that this is how he will die, choked to death and stuck on a massive cock. He thinks of Elias, wondering if he made it safe to his home, or if someone went after him too. The idea makes him want to howl, but all that leaves his throat is a strangled whimper, breaking off before it really even starts.

The fingers around his throat loosen up, letting him breathe again. Jon can't stop himself from breaking down into sobs, crying there as Harry rises up, glancing down between their bodies where Jon's cock still stands hard and twitching. Harry smiles and reaches down, grasping Jon's cock to stroke him to completion, making Jon spill all over his hand.

"What a dirty slut." Harry wipes his fingers on Jon's stomach, making sure every drop sticks to Jon's skin as he glares down at where their bodies are joined together, Jon's hole stretched around the bulge at the base of his cock. A knot, Jon realizes, he has been knotted, like he's a dog. He sniffles, trying to pull himself together as Harry reaches down and cups his cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "You know, I was actually unsure about you, but you really do love it, don't you? Whoring yourself out like a little bitch."

Jon closes his eyes, shaking all over. He doesn't think he can ever stop shaking.

He cries out when he's slapped, head snapping to the side. "Answer me," Harry snaps, grasping Jon tight from his chin before turning his face forward again.

Jon swallows several times, trying again to regain his dignity. Realizing that it's a lost cause, he whispers, defeated to the core: "Yes."

As Harry smiles, Jon lets his tears fall again.


	3. Toy's Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon tries to keep it together as things go from bad to worse with the officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for traumatic reactions, noncon gangbang and general cruelty towards Jon. There are references to pissing and snuff but they don't actually happen.

It takes ages for the knot to go down. When Harry finally pulls his soft length out of Jon, come spills out of Jon, staining his buttocks and the mattress beneath him. Jon can feel his hole gaping, wide and twitching; Jon wonders if it will ever close up again, or if he will be like this forever. He sniffles when Harry gathers leaked spunk onto his fingers and shoves it back inside him, pushing it in deep.

“Keep it all in,” Harry says in a soft voice. “Something to warm you up for the night.”

Jon freezes at that. “W-what do you mean?” he stammers, body tensing up.

“What I said,” Harry says, grasping Jon by his shoulders. He rolls Jon over to his stomach, resting one hand on the small of his back as his coat rustles; he’s digging into his pockets, Jon realizes. A moment later, the handcuffs click open, releasing Jon’s arms.“We’re spending the night here, you and I.”

The mere prospect makes Jon feel sick. “Can’t I just go home?” he asks, trying to keep the tremor running through his body out of his voice, only to have it crack through.

“You said you’d spend the night with your friend. We don’t want to make your grandmother suspicious, now would we?” Harry gets off the bed for a moment, gathering Jon up into his arms and lifting him up. Holding onto Jon with one arm - Jon hates how easy he is to handle, like he’s nothing - Harry pulls the blanket covering the bed off and sets Jon down onto his side, settling down behind him. As he wraps a strong arm around Jon, he pulls the blanket over them both, covering them up as he presses his naked groin against Jon’s bare arse. He is soft, but Jon shivers anyway.

“I’ll take you home in the morning,” Harry adds, snuggling up against him as he wraps his other arm around Jon as well.

Jon flinches at that. “That won’t be necessary,” he says, moving his arms carefully in front of him. He wonders if he should try driving his elbows to Harry’s chest, making a run for it.

“You have no idea where you even are,” Harry says, amused. He leans down to mouth the line of Jon’s neck as he shoves one knee between Jon’s naked thighs, pushing his own thigh up against Jon’s groin. “Best not act a fool, really. We’re just getting started, you and I. Did you really think that it takes just one fuck for me to leave you alone?”

Jon didn’t think that; he just wanted really hard to believe otherwise. Hearing it confirmed like that makes Jon shudder all over anyway, a whimper escaping him as Harry kisses him on his ear, pulling him even tighter against himself.

“Try to catch some sleep,” Harry says, resting his face into Jon’s hair. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Jon knows he has no choice. Sniffling a little more, he closes his eyes as he lies in Harry’s arms, hoping against hope that his dreams will empty tonight.

They aren’t.

*

In the morning, the first thing he becomes aware of is a pair of arms around him, holding onto him tight. Elias, Jon thinks; with him he’s safe. Keeping his eyes still closed, Jon leans back into the embrace, lets himself believe.

Within seconds, reality crashes in.

“Good morning,” Harry whispers into his ear. “Slept well?”

Eyes opening, a whine rising from him, Jon tries to pull free, trying to kick out before he realizes that Harry has entwined their legs together, that he can’t move. Harry spreads his legs open and Jon’s legs open up along with them, and soon one big hand drops between Jon’s thighs, groping his soft cock and balls.

“I don’t know,” Jon says, because he doesn’t know if he dares to say that he didn’t, and to claim otherwise would be too obviously untrue. He whimpers when he feels Harry’s cock stir against his arse cheek, his breathing getting faster. “I thought you were going to take me home.”

“In good time, boy.” Lips brush against the shell of Jon’s ear before sliding down to his neck, and Jon shudders when he feels a tongue slide against his skin. “I think we ought to tell each other goodbye properly before that.”

Goodbye? Oh, please let this be that. Jon doesn’t know what to do, clenching his hands against his thighs while Harry keeps touching him, trying to arouse him, rubbing against him.

Then Harry suddenly stops, pulling away from Jon and getting out of the bed.

“Get up,” he says to Jon. “We’re leaving now.”

Jon hesitates, surprised by this sudden turnaround. He pushes himself up, looking around to see where his stripped-off clothes are, and that’s when Harry adds:

“You can tell me goodbye in the car.”

All he can do is shudder.

*

In the car, Jon ends up leaning over Harry’s seat, opening his trousers and pulling his cock out, stroking its thick length while Harry drives. He’s terrified - what if they drive off the road? what if someone else sees them? - but he forces his hand to move, licking his lips as he leans further down, taking his mouth to the head. He hesitates, his fist tightening around Harry’s cock while he breathes on its tip, watching as pre-come trickles out.

“I didn’t order you down there so you can stare,” Harry says, with a warning in his voice. “Let me see that sweet little mouth in action.”

For a second, Jon remembers kneeling between Elias’s legs, but he forces those thoughts out of his mind; he will not sully Elias with this. But he thinks of Peter instead, Peter’s cock that is still the biggest Jon has ever seen, fucking his throat raw.

When he swallows Harry’s cock, drawing a surprised grunt out of the man, it’s almost easy.

“That’s- that’s good.” Harry tenses, resting his hand down into Jon’s hair and grasping a tight hold. “You really are a natural at this. You love it, don’t you? Being a whore, sucking cock all day?”

Jon could shake his head, pull off and protest. But he lets his mouth be where it is, opening his throat up even further so he can take Harry deeper in, make him shut up.

He hates that it works.

*

Harry drops him off at his house, but not before kissing him deeply, burying his fingers into Jon’s hair as he forces his tongue into Jon’s mouth.

“I’ll keep in touch,” he says when he draws back, giving Jon a firm pat on the cheek before letting him go.

Jon resists the urge to run when he finally gets out, even after he hears the car pull out and drive off.

His grandmother isn’t around when he enters the house, and the explanation for that is simple: it’s 10 AM, which means she is off to do groceries. Jon first takes his bag into his room and heads straight into the bathroom afterwards, tremors rocking through his body again as he starts to draw the bath. He needs to wash it all off. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be clean again, but he needs to get it all off.

How will he be able to face Elias?

He doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want to be. He lets it all slip from his mind, himself included.

*

The next few are strange. Jon doesn’t really feel like he’s present in the world: he goes through the motions, goes to school, tries to help Malcolm, interacts with his grandmother, locks himself in his room otherwise. This disconnection is the better state of being; the other is when he’s full of terror, finding himself running through the forest over and over again, only to inevitably get caught and put into the trunk, and dragged off to the deserted house where Harry waits for him. He can’t stop hearing Harry’s voice, calling him a whore, can’t stop feeling his hands all over him. It doesn’t feel like it ever stops until his mind has enough and simply severs his connection to reality, leaving him floating inside himself.

He keeps waiting for the phone to ring, for the nightmare to start anew again.

Instead in the middle of the week, Harry shows up at school.

“What’s wrong?” Malcolm asks him when Jon goes pale, his breath quickening and his heartbeat filling his head, so loud he can’t hear anything else. Harry is in his uniform, speaking to one of the teachers at the school yard, and there is no way for Jon to get around him without being seen. He almost fails to notice when Malcolm touches his shoulder gingerly, too lost in his terror.

“I’m fine,” Jon says, although his voice is painfully strained. He has to go to Harry, he knows it, has to find out what he wants. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Malcolm.”

He smiles at Malcolm, who looks concerned but is reassured by his response, and then starts to walk across the school yard, forcing himself to move slowly and calmly, trying his hardest not to catch any attention. He watches as the teacher departs and Harry turns towards him, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Look at you in your cute little uniform,” Harry says in a low voice once Jon is close enough. Jon flinches, resisting the urge to look around him to see if anyone heard. “Good that I caught you. I want to see you this Friday.”

Sickness sweeps through Jon, making his knees buckle. He hates that he immediately starts to shake, his mouth going dry and his heartbeat getting even louder and faster, his eyes blinking as he tries to keep himself under control. He wants to flee, he wants to scream so bad.

“Where and when?” he asks.

“After school. I’ll let you know.” Harry’s mouth twitches as he starts to smirk. “You need to cancel on your boyfriend.”

Now, Jon feels like he has been drained of blood. Elias, he had completely forgotten about Elias, and their meetings on Fridays. Meetings Jon had looked forward to so much, that would have made him so happy. He can’t stop tears rising into his eyes this time, and he fights not to blink in order to keep them in. He can’t cry, not here in public.

“Can’t we meet on any other day?” he asks, his voice a whimper.

“We’ll meet on Friday,” Harry says, merciless. “Make arrangements. It will be a long night again. I have an extra surprise for you too, should be enjoyable.”

Harry gives him a little salute before turning around and walking away, leaving Jon standing on the yard, shaking all over. It takes Jon a moment until he’s able to make himself move again, Harry’s words echoing in his brain. He feels like he’s walking on nothing, like he’s nothing. He barely feels real.

He wishes so much he wasn’t.

*

Thursday is a blur, except for the afternoon when he takes his phone and dials Elias’s number, rooting himself to the world again. He doesn’t do such a good job of it, still feeling like he’s made of cotton when he hears Elias pick up the phone.

He hangs up before Elias can even say anything, tossing the phone onto his bed.

He can’t. If he talks to Elias, Elias will immediately know that something is wrong, and he will demand to know the truth. Jon can’t give it to him, not before he knows that Elias is safe, maybe not ever at all. His skin crawls, he itches from the inside and he wants to tear his hair out, howl.

Jon makes himself pick up the phone again and goes to the living room to get the phone book so he can call straight to the Institute.

“The Magnus Institute,” a woman’s voice responds to him, and Jon takes in a quick breath.

“Hello? This is Jonathan Sims, I need to leave a message for Elias Bouchard.” He licks his dry lips, digs his fingertips into his thigh as he looks around the living room. His grandmother is taking a nap in her own room, but he has to be careful. “We had a meeting next Friday, but I have to cancel it. Can you please tell him?”

“I see nothing about this in the calendar,” the woman says, and her words make Jon’s stomach tighten up even though her tone is still friendly.

“It was a private meeting, I just don’t seem to be able to reach him,” Jon says, grateful that he’s far away from London; his lie would be too obvious in person. “Can you please leave the message to him? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You are not, Mr. Sims,” the woman reassures him, and her kindness makes Jon ache inside. “I will let him know.”

“Thank you,” Jon breathes, his body going soft with relief.

“Now, if you could leave your phone number in case I need to rea-”

Jon hangs up.

He hopes this is enough, letting his mind go blank again.

*

In the evening, Elias tries to call him.

Jon doesn’t answer.

*

On Friday, he packs his bag again, ready to go on another ‘sleepover’ with Malcolm. He knows he won’t really need it, but at least this way his grandmother won’t be suspicious. 

Although she is already.

“Jon, is everything okay? You have been so quiet,” she asks him at the breakfast table, looking at him with concern. “You know that you can talk to me about things that bother you, don’t you?”

“I know.” God, he needs to pull it together, be present enough that he convinces her that everything is fine. He can’t have her change her mind about the evening; he can’t endanger her. He summons a smile on his face, trying to make it believable. “It’s just school stuff, that’s all. I’ll be all right.”

“Has someone been bothering you?” his grandmother asks. “If you’re having problems at school, I need to know about it.”

“It’s nothing like that, just stress. After this week, everything will be okay.” He doesn’t believe that at all, he doesn’t think anything will ever be okay again, but he just has to believe it long enough for his grandmother to buy it. “It’s just a bit much, sometimes. But it helps that Malcolm and I have become so much closer. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Those are the magic words; his grandmother instantly softens, her worry easing away.

“I’m glad you have such a good friend,” she tells him. “Just don’t push yourself too hard, all right? You get to think about yourself too.”

If he hadn’t thought about himself so much, maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

“Thank you,” he says, smiling almost like he means it.

*

By the end of Jon’s school day, he hasn’t heard anything from Harry. He lingers at the school yard, looking around for a familiar Sedan; he sees nothing. Not knowing what to do, he starts to walk his usual route home, his heart in his throat. He hopes Malcolm won’t try to chat him up today. He hopes Elias won’t call.

Despite that hope, Jon can’t help but feel disappointed that the phone remains silent.

He has made it halfway through his route when the Sedan finally pulls up beside him. Biting his lip, Jon turns towards it, freezing when he sees that Harry isn’t alone in the car.

“Get in, boy,” Harry calls out as one of the men sitting on the back opens the door for him. The car is full aside from the middle seat in the back, all of the men inside big and burly like Harry is; Jon’s stomach lurches at the sight, but he bites his lip harder, forcing himself to crawl inside. He barely manages to sit down in the middle seat when there are already hands roaming over him, stroking over his thighs, playing with the buttons of his school jacket.

“You weren’t kidding that he was a shrimp,” one of the men says as he pulls the car door shut and Harry starts to drive.

“I never kid,” Harry states, not glancing behind. The man sitting next to him, however, does, turning around in his seat so he can get a proper look at Jon, his grin widening as his and Jon’s eyes meet.

“Cute,” the man says, glancing at Harry. “But are you sure about this? He really is tiny.”

The men on the backseat don’t seem to care about that; one of them has his hands on Jon’s crotch and is groping him through his trousers while another wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him tight against himself as he grasps Jon’s chin with his large hand. He turns Jon’s face towards himself, looking him in the eye as he eyes him over, tilting his face first to left, then right.

“I’m sure, Mason,” Harry says on the front seat. “This is the kid who has been snooping all over the town, waving his tight little arse around. And let me tell you, it really is a sweet and tight arse. And that mouth-” 

“I’m not waving anything!” Jon shouts, trying to twist his head free from the grasp on his jaw in order to look at Harry. What he gets for his efforts is a harsh smack on the face from the man who just held him, stunning him silent.

“Easy, Walter,” Harry says.

“He was rude though,” Walter mutters, but he lowers his hand, grasping Jon from his tie. He yanks on it, forcing Jon close to him. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut unless spoken to.”

“I said, easy.” There is amusement in Harry’s voice, however. “But yes, boy, you should behave. Don’t forget who has the power here.”

Jon hasn’t forgotten; he just can’t stand hearing these lies about him, hates their implications. But he knows these men have already made up their minds about him: he’s a whore, a piece of meat, someone they can use as they please. He closes his eyes as Walter releases him, leaning back against the bench, trying to ignore the yet unnamed man who is still feeling him up through his clothes.

He has to survive this.

*

Jon keeps his eyes closed for the whole drive, ignoring Walter and the unnamed man who keep touching him. He jumps when the car stops, his heartbeat picking up in pace again.

“We’re here,” Harry says. “Let’s go inside. You're going to love this, boy."

Jon won't, but he doesn't protest as he follows Walter out of the car. He's surprised to see that they aren't in some far off place; they are in the middle of a perfectly normal-looking suburb. He stills, staring at the house while Harry walks up to his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"You do good today, and I will think about leaving you be," Harry says to him as he starts to lead Jon towards the house, his arm dropping lower as they walk. Soon, his palm brushes over Jon's buttocks, which makes Jon flinch; he can't believe Harry is doing this right in the open, where anyone could see them. Does he think that nobody will care?

He feels cold when he realizes that Harry probably _knows_ that nobody will.

"Now, close your eyes," Harry says, bringing his hands up to Jon's shoulders so he can grasp them, while Walter unlocks the front door. “Don’t open them until I tell you to.”

Jon doesn't want to, trembling hard now, but he obeys, swallowing as he's led up to the steps. Harry is patient with him now, letting him step up in peace and walk through the door, rubbing slow circles against his shoulders. Jon shivers when he hears the door lock behind him, allowing Harry to guide him deeper into the house.

After a while, they stop.

"Open up," Harry whispers, and Jon opens his eyes.

He can't even scream. They are in a living room, and the living room is full of men, most likely all police, although nobody is in the uniform, and they are all staring at Jon with undisguised hunger. Jon stands there, looking around in panic before he rears back, trying to twist free from Harry's hands.

Harry's hands slip down, locking around his arms before he shoves Jon forward, hard enough so Jon lands straight onto his hands and knees to the floor.

"The treat of the day," Harry declares to everyone present. "All ours for the night. Make him feel welcome."

Jon doesn't have time to get back up when they all close in on him.

*

There are too many of them. There are hands everywhere, diving underneath Jon's clothes, pulling them off, stroking and pinching and smacking his flesh as it's revealed. There's laughter and whistles as Jon is left standing naked on the floor, shivering from head to toe while everyone else is still fully clothed, further emphasizing just how far beneath them these men see him. But Jon notices that many are already excited, squeezing themselves through their trousers as they look at Jon’s body, their eyes leaving nothing untouched.

"Get his hands," Harry orders while standing off to the side, and one man grabs his arms tight and pulls them behind his back while the other gets out the handcuffs, swiftly cuffing Jon's wrists. Jon is panting already, so stiff with terror he can't move, but that doesn't matter; he's dragged over to a small table and forced down onto his back on the top of it, arse hanging off one end while his head hangs off the other. His legs are lifted up, pushed towards his chest while a hand twists into his hair, holding his head still as a cock is brought over to his lips.

"Show them how well you suck cock, boy," Harry calls out, almost purring. "Just like you did with me."

There are hands holding him down while others roam over his body, toying with his nipples, tickling his ribs and belly while one especially eager hand slips between his thighs, palming his soft cock. He hears someone kneel down onto the floor, then feels a pair of large hands grasping his buttocks in order to part them, a wet breath soon brushing against his defenseless hole.

Jon cries out when his hair is tugged, reminding him to finally open his mouth. Once he parts his lips, unable to stop his trembling, a long, thick cock pushes its way inside, twitching against his tongue, and Jon starts to suck. He whimpers when a slick finger slides up into his arse, followed by brush of a tongue against his hole from the outside. The hand on his cock starts to stroke him properly, sliding a tight fist from the root of his cock to the tip and down again, rubbing and rubbing until Jon starts to grow hard. He whimpers again, trying to focus on the cock in his mouth, squeezing his cheeks around it, sliding his tongue against it.

The hand in his hair tightens, holding him firmly as its owner starts to move his cock back and forth in his mouth, starting out slow, but soon rocking fast, aiming towards his throat. As Jon tries to breathe through his nostrils, tries not to panic, the wet mouth at his hole withdraws along with the finger, and soon something round and thick rushes catches against his rim, as if asking for entrance. It doesn't wait for the permission as it starts to push in, making Jon's entire body tense in protest.

"Jesus, he's tight." Hands settle on his hips, gripping tight as the man thrusts forward, his cock pushing even further inside Jon. "You like that, little slut? Oh, you're clenching around me, I love that."

Jon doesn't want to, knowing it will hurt more, but he can't stop his body from tightening around the intrusion, his cock from twitching as the merciless hand upon it keeps stroking it, rubbing the head with the thumb. The man fucking his mouth is entering his throat now, slamming harshly in while his balls smack against Jon's face, filling his nostrils with the scent of musk and sweat. Jon groans, which makes the man fucking his throat moan in response, and suddenly pull out. Jon gasps for breath while spurts of semen hit his face, catching him on his nose, cheeks and lips.

"Not bad," the man comments, stepping aside to let another one take over. The second man doesn't settle for play, thrusting all the way into Jon's throat at once, making him gag harshly while he clenches even harder around the cock inside him, which is into the hilt now.

"Not bad?” Harry asks, his tone somewhere between amused and offended. “You can do better than that, slut."

Jon can't; he can only gag as the new man clutches his head from both sides and fucks his throat, picking up a brisk pace that gives Jon no time to adjust or recover. He tries to breathe through his nostrils, except his nose is getting clogged up as he tears up, already overwhelmed.

"Take it, brat," the man fucking his arse hisses, digging his fingers deep into Jon's hips as he starts to rock against his arse, his thrusts harsh and jerking. "You want cocks so bad, you little whore? Take it all."

A blunt fingernail digs into the slit on the tip of Jon's cock, rubbing down hard until he's screaming around the cock in his mouth, his body clenching all over as he comes. His reaction gets everyone to holler around him and the hand stroking him doesn't stop, squeezing his spent, sensitive cock while continuing to jerk it, making him whimper in pain. The man inside his arse is fucking him hard by now, making his jaws clench a bit as he drives deep into him.

"Careful there," the man fucking his mouth warns, grasping Jon's jaw to keep it still as he fucks into his throat harder and hard, until he stiffens and comes inside Jon, coating his throat with his spunk. Jon coughs when he pulls out, a sob escaping him as his body rocks against the table, sore and hurting.

"Please," he whispers as he sees the next man line up for his mouth. "It's too much, please."

"It's no different from what you did on the ship," Harry says, and just then Jon knows that Harry knows damn well that Jon has never sold himself, that Harry is doing all of this just because he wants to. He wants to say something, protest, but a new cock is shoved into his mouth when he opens it, thrusting in deep before he can even grunt.

The man fucking his arse comes with a low groan, filling Jon with his hot, wet spunk. He gives Jon a harsh slap on the side of his arse before pulling away, allowing another man to step in.

"It's all good," Harry says, his voice coming from close now, and Jon recognizes his hand when it brushes down to his forehead, stroking him. "All your dreams are coming true tonight, boy. Just lay back and enjoy."

As his arse is breached again, Jon can only arch his back and wail.

*

"On your hands and knees, whore."

Jon's hands are free now, but there is no crawling away. He settles down onto the floor, shaking as he tries to hold himself steady while Harry kneels down before him, opening his trousers. His cock is already hard and twitching, and the knot is already bulging at the base of it, making Jon flinch.

"Don't leave him empty," Harry says to someone behind him, and soon enough a man kneels behind Jon, grasping his arse and squeezing it hard before shuffling closer to him, rubbing his cock against the back of Jon's thigh.

"It's too much," Jon pleads, trying to make an eye contact with Harry. Harry allows him that, meeting his eyes as he smiles, laughing at him as he takes his cock and guides it to Jon's swollen lips.

Jon whimpers before he opens his mouth, taking the cock inside. He tries to relax his lips and throat, but it's hard when he can't stop tensing when the man behind him guides his cock to his sore hole, pushing the head inside. Jon clenches around it, drawing a moan from the man who sets his hands on Jon's hips, thrusting forward.

"You really are something," Harry says to him, stroking his fingers through Jon's hair before gripping it hard, pushing Jon's head down to his groin. As Jon chokes on his cock, throat spasming around it, Harry leans down so he can stare Jon deep into his eyes, and the cheerful malice Jon sees in his gaze makes his insides coil. "The moment I saw you, I knew I had a champion cocksucker in my hands, and you take it so nicely in our arse too. Maybe I won't let you be. Maybe I should keep you forever, chain you down and put a collar on you."

An image flashes through Jon's mind: him at the police station, down on the floor on on his hands and knees, a collar fastened around his neck and a chain attached to the collar, and Harry is dragging him around, laughing as the collar pulls tight around his throat. His body is covered in bites, scratches and bruises, spunk is gushing out of his ravaged hole as he tries to keep up with his captor, his eyes wide and terrified. Jon groans, trying to shake the image off, but Harry's hand in his hair is tight, holding his head still as he fucks his throat.

"Yeah, I think your grandmother will do just fine without you. And your boyfriend, he'll just find another toy. I know his type." Harry thrusts hard, cock twitching against Jon's inner cheeks and tongue. "We could be so good to you, kid. Keep all your holes filled, fill your belly with come. Maybe if we try hard enough we can even fuck some puppies into you."

More images tear into Jon's mind: him on his knees, getting his throat fucked, him with tears in his eyes and getting struck so hard his lip splits, him getting pissed on, him getting strangled. He wails, trying to pull away from Harry, but the other man is still fucking him from behind, moving so fast and harsh now that Jon thinks he might be tearing up from inside. He thinks he can hear others walking closer to him, hear their hands slide along their cocks, but he is too distracted by the visions flooding into his brain to care, too overwhelmed. He wants to scream in terror, he wants to run. All he can do is keep taking the cock plunging into his mouth and the cock fucking his arse raw, feeling as knots bulge against his lips and the rim of his hole both.

"Open up now," Harry says, and the man behind him tightens his hold on Jon's hips, fingers digging in deep enough to bruise.

Jon has no choice but to let his jaw fall slack, let Harry push his knot into his mouth, bulging his cheeks up. Jon can't make any sound anymore, concentrating too hard on just getting to breathe, barely managing to draw in air through his clogged nostrils while the man fucking his arse groans, thrusting all the way inside him. Jon can feel his hole stretch again as it takes the knot in, unable to help the twitching of his body as the knot pops past the rim.

"So good, all spit-roasted like that." Harry strokes his hair, his face, falsely tender. He looks up suddenly and to his side, eyes narrowing. "You _are_ getting all of this, right?"

"Everything's on tape," someone responds in a smug voice, and Jon's heart sinks. He had no idea a recorder was on; now they have evidence against him, all the proof they need to show that he's a whore, and ruin Elias. Jon breathes hard and fast through his nostrils but it isn't enough; he starts to feel faint, groaning around the knot.

"That's right, darling, you're a porn star now." Harry wipes his hair out of his face, smirking down at him. "What do you say, should we send a copy to your boyfriend? I bet he would cream his undies over it."

It's too much. It's like a tense string snaps apart in his brain; Jon feels himself go numb, simply unable to comprehend the pain anymore. He sways unsteadily as Harry's knot goes down and his soft cock finally slips out of his mouth, as the man behind him pulls away from him, leaving both his mouth and his hole leaking in their wake. He shakes all over, his stomach twists with nausea.

He almost doesn’t feel it when the others around him start to come, their spunk raining down on him in warm, wet splatters, staining his back and arse, his face. A new image flashes across his mind, of himself in a ditch, eyes staring blankly upwards, his whole body lifeless. It should make him shudder, scream. Instead, it fills him with longing; at least that way he wouldn't have to be in pain anymore, and Elias would never have to see.

He collapses forward and down to his elbows, his legs giving out beneath him as he falls to his side. He doesn't lose consciousness, but it doesn't matter; he's not in himself anymore.

*

That’s why he misses it when the door opens to the house, when someone walks into the living room.

He doesn't miss it when Elias says:

"You dogs should really stick to your territory. Step away from him right now."


	4. His Voice So Calm and Soothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elias arrives to the rescue, and he and Jon deal with the fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains reactions to trauma and healing sex with mind meld.

It’s not real. Jon can see Elias, standing just few feet away from him, dressed in a long coat and a dark suit that is one of Jon’s favorites for him. Elias is calm, his body relaxed, his eyes ice cold; everyone in the room is silent, just staring at him in confusion. And that’s Jon’s hint that this can’t be really happening; surely they would be lunging for him right now, taking him down. This is just a fantasy, an attempt from Jon’s mind to keep him from splintering completely.

“How the _fuck_ did you get in here?” Harry asks in a sharp voice, unable to hide his surprise. Another sign that this is a hallucination; surely he would just be smug and unshaken. Jon cowers on the floor, pulling his knees towards his chest and wrapping his arms around them, not taking his eyes off Elias. Even if Elias isn’t real, this might be the last time Jon sees him. He doesn’t want to miss a thing.

“Mr. Norris let me in,” Elias responds. “I think he mistook me for one of your friends, but I was quick to correct that belief once I got inside. He is on his way home now, hoping that nothing will connect him to what is going to happen here.” Elias glances down at Jon, his expression softening a bit. “It’s all right, Jon. I’m getting you out.”

"And what makes you think you can do that?" Harry scoffs, glancing around him. "What are you waiting for? Get him."

Nobody moves.

It's strange, and although Jon barely dares to move, not wanting to break this strange illusion - not wanting to break his final contact with Elias - he looks around as well, and is puzzled when he sees that the men around them have frozen to their spots, breathing hard as they stare ahead of themselves with blank eyes, faces gone pale. Harry goes rigid at the sight, hands balling up to fists as he turns towards Elias.

" _What_ are you?" he asks, with the slightest strain in his voice.

"Someone you should be very, very worried about," Elias responds, his voice calm and cool. "See, Harrison, I know all about you. I know that you didn't grow up in such a nice family, and that left you feeling all kinds of resentment towards the world. I know that you joined the police force to gain some kind of a control over your life and everything else. You gained it, and you abused that control. You extort. You rape. And when you get the chance, you kill."

Elias smiles, meeting Harry's eyes. "I will give it to you, you have done a good job of keeping your tracks hidden. But you haven't hidden them all, and I know about every single misstep that you have made, and I know how to use them against you. So, unless you want me to tell the whole world about what a miserable lowlife you are, you will let me and Jon go right now.”

"Or I could just snap your neck," Harry spits, extending his hands.

They never meet their target.

As Jon watches from the floor, trying to understand how his mind is coming up with all of this, every man in the room gasps, their hands rising up to their heads. Even Harry freezes, eyes going wide as if he has just been struck, and within seconds he’s groaning, clutching his head tight.

“Stop!” he shouts. “Make it stop!”

“No.” Elias is still smiling, but his eyes are livid and burning with a cold fire. “Don’t like what you’re feeling, Harrison? That’s what it felt like for your prey when you were playing your nasty little games with them. But I have so much more for you.” Elias takes a step forward, entering Harry’s personal space. “You know what the chase feels like on the other side now. Now, you’ll get to feel how it felt like for them to die.”

Elias gives Harry a shove, sending him stumbling backwards. A collective groan goes around the room, followed by first thump of a body down to the floor, then others. Jon jumps over every sound, his heart leaping in his chest, watching as every one of his assailants collapse, twitching on the floor as they pass out. Harry lingers on his feet the longest, shaking all over before he sinks down to his knees, swaying there for a moment before falling down to his side.

This is when the fantasy ends, Jon knows. Soon, he will discover that everyone is still up and well, that they are still out to get him, that Elias is nowhere to be seen. He waits for that to happen as Elias walks over to him, kneeling down to his side.

“Jon,” Elias whispers, reaching out to touch his fingertips to Jon’s shoulder.

They are warm, filling Jon with fear.

Elias _is_ here.

With a whimper, Jon recoils, curling up on himself.

“Jon?”

“Don’t look at me.” Jon knows what he looks like, bruised all over and covered in and leaking semen, and it couldn’t be more obvious what has happened to him. Elias was never supposed to see; Jon was supposed to die, his shame kept secret forever. “God, don’t look at me.”

“Jon, I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you.” Elias stays right where he is, his eyes still on Jon, still seeing. Jon can’t sense any disgust from him, which can’t be true. “I know it sounds hard to believe, but you are safe now. They will never approach you again.”

Elias’s hand comes fully down on Jon’s shoulder, and that is too much; Jon starts to sob, curling up on himself even tighter, covering his face with his hands.

Going quiet, Elias stays by his side, stroking his shoulders and back. Jon should be pulling away, not let Elias soil himself like this, but he can’t; he thought he would never see Elias again, never feel him again. That Elias can touch him like this, like he’s still the Jon he knew, is beyond unbelievable, but Jon is selfish. He wants that touch, he needs it.

“I think we should clean you up a bit,” Elias whispers to him. “Will you let me, Jon? I won’t hurt you.”

Jon flinches at the idea of Elias having to deal with the mess on him, but he nods; he still feels shaky all over, and unreal, and he doesn’t know if he can be trusted to clean himself. Soon enough, Elias is wiping a handkerchief over him, getting the worst of the come off Jon’s back before digging out a clean one for the rest. Jon shudders when Elias’s hand briefly dips between his buttocks, cleaning him carefully from the outside with the handkerchief.

“Jon, I will have to ask you to get up.” There is a rustle of fabric as Elias takes his coat off and puts it on Jon, his shoes creaking as he gets up on his haunches. “They will be busy with their minds for quite some time, but it’s better we leave now than later. We need to get you to a hospi-”

“No!” Jon’s throat feels raw and his voice is hoarse, but he raises it anyway, lifting his head up and looking Elias in the eye. He shakes his head as hard as he can. “No hospitals. My grandmother, she must not know. Nobody must ever know.”

Elias’s eye widen, full of concern. “Jon, you might be seriously injured.”

“No hospitals.” Jon sits up, grimacing as his whole body aches in protest. But he keeps the eye contact between him and Elias intact, sets his jaw. “Let’s just- I don’t know, go to the office? I can get cleaned there?”

“There are no suitable accommodations there.” Elias shifts to Jon’s side, resting an arm around his shoulders. “What does your grandmother know?”

“She thinks I’m at Malcolm’s again. She won’t expect me back until tomorrow.”

“In that case, I will take you to my home. It will take few hours to get there, but you’ll be safe. You will always be safe with me.” Elias helps Jon stand up, holding onto him gently as he looks around the room. “I think your clothes are over there. Why don’t we fetch them?”

With Elias supporting Jon, they make their way to the corner of the room, where someone has unceremoniously tossed Jon’s clothes and bag. Jon is surprised to see that his school uniform is still in one piece; he was sure it was torn off him. It implies that Harry was planning to let him go in the end, so he could keep summoning him back for more.

Jon wonders if it’s really over now.

It takes him a few moments to realize that Elias isn’t by his side anymore, and he tries not to panic as he turns around. “Elias?”

“Right here, Jon.” Elias has leaned down to one of the fallen men, pulling something from his hand. When he turns to Jon again, Jon sees that it’s the camera, and the sight makes his stomach lurch.

“What are you doing with that?” he asks, feeling sick.

“If they try to extort you again, we will extort them right back.” Elias’s eyes are steely and the sight startles Jon, making his protests die in his throat. “Jon, I have made it clear to these animals that if they dare to come after you again, I will destroy them. I have plenty of ammo, but having this won’t hurt.” Elias hesitates, his expression softening. “Of course, if you want me to destroy this, just say so and I will. Anything for you, Jon.”

_Anything for you._

“It’s fine.” The idea of Elias having the tape makes Jon shudder all over, but he nods in emphasis. Regardless of what is going to happen, he can’t let these people destroy what he and Elias have. He has to keep believing. “I- I trust you.”

He means it.

“All right, Jon.” Elias walks over to him, wrapping his arm around him again. “If you have everything now, let's leave.”

Elias’s arm is warm and solid around him, secure. Jon leans into its embrace, closing his eyes.

He’s safe.

*

Once Jon is in Elias’s car, sitting on the backseat, he can feel himself slip away again, his body going through its motions without much input from him as he puts on his seat belt. The last time he sat in a car is still very fresh in his mind, and he’s trying his best not to think about it. He doesn’t want to be haunted by phantom hands over his body.

He will be, he knows. But maybe he can avoid it for now.

The car ride is silent, with Jon dozing off every now and then, only to start awake when he finds himself with Harry and his friends again, his heart beating fast and his mind fluttering with terror before the numb sets in again. He can see that Elias keeps eyeing him through the mirror, but he doesn’t say anything, giving Jon his peace. They both know they can, and will, talk once they’re at Elias’s house.

Jon bundles up in Elias’s coat in the meanwhile, takes comfort in its scents. In the scent of Elias.

Once they have arrived, Elias takes Jon to the bathroom.

"Jon," Elias says, "I will need to look you over. We need to know the extent of your suffering. Will you let me help?"

A hollow laughter escapes Jon. The extent of his suffering- is there measuring it? But Jon thinks about hospitals, and how he doesn't want to go into one; his grandmother must not know. If she does, she will blame Elias, and they will take Elias away from him. Jon can't let that happen, not ever.

"Okay," he whispers, sighing as he opens the coat.

The sight of his own body makes him ill. The come is gone now, at least from the surface, but the handiwork of Harry and his friends is still clear on his body. There are bruises on his hips and thighs, bitemarks on his shoulders and chest, he's sore and swollen all over. Biting his lip, he forces himself to drop the coat, even as he wants to shrink and disappear. He has to try to be strong for Elias.

It's hard when he can feel himself fade away again, the world becoming hazy in his eyes. He shivers as Elias inspects him, his eyes neutral as he looks over Jon’s body, takes in the visible damage. He nods, stroking Jon’s shoulders before stepping away towards the tub.

“I’ll take another look in a moment,” Elias says, starting to draw the bath. “But so far I see no signs of permanent damage. You will heal, Jon.”

Jon shrugs, watching the bathtub fill up, Elias take his jacket off and rolls up his sleeves. He feels adrift, lost.

"Let's get you clean," Elias says to him, grasping him tenderly by his shoulders.

Elias guides him to the tub and starts with his hair. It feels good to to have Elias work the shampoo into his soft curls, massage his scalp and rinse it all away, making sure not to get any shampoo in Jon's eyes. Jon sways along with Elias's movements, feeling weightless. As hard as he tries, he just can’t stay present, barely feeling it as Elias finishes with his hair and picks up the washcloth.

“Focus, Jon,” Elias says in a soft voice. “Stay with me.”

Slowly and carefully, Elias scrubs him clean with the washcloth, starting with his face and moving lower, whispering soft, gentle words to him that Jon can’t focus enough on to understand, but he thinks he’s getting the message. It’s not before Elias guides him up to his knees in the tub when Jon tenses, awareness spreading into him again as he starts to breathe faster, letting Elias guide his hands to the edge of the tub and make him bend over. Elias strokes his shoulders and back with both hands before sliding them down over Jon’s hips, all the way to his thighs.

"I need you to spread your legs, Jon," Elias whispers. "I will take a look."

Jon doesn't want to, and for a moment he thinks about clenching his thighs together, keeping Elias away. But he pushes himself to part his legs, remaining bent as Elias first cleans his buttocks and thighs with the washcloth, then takes his bare hands between Jon's arse cheeks. He parts them and Jon can feel Elias's eyes straight on his sore, tender hole. It has obviously been fucked, Jon knows, and now Elias knows too, and that fills Jon with shame.

"You have been so brave, Jon. They hurt you so much, yet here you are, still breathing, still alive. You are stronger than you think you are."

Carefully, Elias slides a finger inside him, which enters him with ease; again, something that makes Jon's insides curl with self-loathing. But he lets Elias feel him up from the inside, search for tears and other damage, and he closes his eyes tight, focusing on his breathing. His eyes burn, his lips tremble.

Elias cleans him from the inside, his fingers reaching in deep, brushing against Jon's prostate. Jon groans when his cock gives a twitch, stirring, his eyes filling up with tears.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be,” Elias whispers back. “You have gone through an ordeal, of course your body wants what comfort it can get. It’s perfectly natural, and you are doing nothing wrong."

Elias withdraws his fingers, and another wave of shame washes through Jon as his body aches at being left empty again. His cock still throbs between his legs as Elias keeps washing him, getting his calves and feet.

"Well done, Jon." Elias turns the taps on, giving Jon a quick rinsing before helping him out of the tub. "Let me get you a towel. You are so good, Jon, so good."

Jon doesn't feel good, much less feels he _is_ good. But his brain is full of yearning, and every word that Elias says sinks right in, soothing him. He stands still as Elias dries him off with a towel, closing his eyes.

Harry's smirking face flashes across his mind and his eyes snap open, a small gasp escaping him.

"What's wrong?" Elias asks, wrapping the towel around Jon before cupping his cheek, stroking him with his thumb.

It's that gentle touch that undoes Jon. He starts to shake first, tremors rocking through his body from head to toe until the first sob breaks out of him. He crumples and Elias is there to catch him, drawing Jon into his arms.

"It's all right, Jon," Elias murmurs, stroking his hair. "Let it all out. Don't bottle it up."

Jon weeps, burying his face against Elias's neck as he cries, as his pain overwhelms him. He clutches Elias hard, sobbing while Elias holds him tight in return, stroking his shoulders and back, kissing him in his hair.

"It's over, Jon. You are safe now, I'm here. I will always be here."

Elias kisses him on his forehead before resting his own against Jon’s, cradling Jon in his arms.

"I will never abandon you."

Jon weeps, and doesn’t let go.

*

They leave the bathroom once Jon has calmed down, Elias’s arm around Jon’s shoulders.

“You should eat something,” Elias says. “I’m afraid I only have leftovers, but-”

“No, I’m not hungry.” The mere idea of trying to eat makes him feel ill right now; he wonders if that will ever pass. “I think I want to sleep.”

He wants to, but he doesn’t know if he can. He knows that the moment he closes his eyes, Harry will be there, perhaps forever. So he clutches Elias back, starts to say: “Could you-?” He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence, but Elias immediately understands.

“Of course, Jon.” Elias squeezes his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

As they make their way upstairs, it strikes Jon how strange it is, to be back in Elias’s house. He never thought he would come here again; it just didn’t seem like the circumstances could ever be on their side for that again. He hates that it had to happen like this, but a part of him also finds it intensely comforting to be in this house.

The last time he was here, Elias made him his. Maybe he can do so again.

“Here,” Elias says, opening the door to a room with a single large bed inside. “I’m not sure if I have anything that fits you, but I’ll try to-”

Jon reaches up and wraps his arms around Elias’s neck, pulling himself up so he can kiss him.

He hears the towel slither down onto the floor, leaving him naked in Elias’s arms. Part of him flinches at that, but he forces himself to ignore it, pushing up against Elias as he strokes Elias’s mouth with his tongue, trying to get it to open up. For a split second, Elias yields to him, brushing his lips back against his, but then he stiffens, grasping Jon carefully by his wrists as he pulls Jon's hands off.

“Jon,” he says. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“But I do.” Jon licks his lips, shivering when he feels something firm press against him through Elias’s clothes. His cock, Jon realizes; so Elias is still affected by him, even with things being the way they are. Jon rubs against him, just a little bit, which makes Elias step back, his hold on Jon’s wrists loosening.

“Please,” Jon says, a desperate note seeping into his voice. “I want to forget. I want to know how it’s like to be with someone I-” He falls silent, his throat feeling tight. He can’t bear to say it out loud, that he loves Elias, not if Elias will reject him. “Please, Elias.”

Much to his relief, Elias’s expression softens.

“If you are sure,” Elias says, reaching out to cup Jon’s face. He steps closer to Jon, allowing Jon to wrap his arms around him as he draws Jon close and kisses him gently on the lips.”The last thing I want to do is to harm you. If you hesitate even in the slightest, say no.”

“I will,” Jon whispers against Elias’s lips, shivering. He’s not sure what he’s doing, not really, but he has to go through with this. He doesn’t want Harry to ruin what he and Elias have.

Elias kisses him again, reaching down so he can pick Jon up into his arms. He carries him over to the bed, resting him down onto the silky soft sheets as he kisses him, over and over again. He pulls away and starts to loosen his tie, hovering over Jon on his knees.

“I wish this had gone differently,” he says. “I’ve dreamed of this for so long, having you in my room.”

That makes Jon’s stomach twist. So this is Elias’s own bedroom, the most private place in his house; he has brought Jon here, is ready to be with him, even though Jon is soiled. It makes him want to flee, but he forces himself to stay still, setting his legs wide apart as he watches Elias strip down. That's another remarkable thing: Elias usually remains clothed around him, only exposing his cock to him. But now he is baring everything, tossing his jacket and tie to the floor so he can fully unbutton his shirt, the bulge within his trousers growing larger.

Jon tries to relax, even taking his own cock into his hand so he can stroke it - it makes him feel sick, but he does so anyway - but when Elias is down to his underwear, Jon can see the shape of his cock clearly through his boxers, and he can’t stop the rush of fear within him. He clutches his cock tight, trying to stir it, but he can barely make his hand move, and Elias notices.

“What’s wrong, Jon?” he asks , taking his hands away from the waistband of his boxers. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” Jon hates how high his voice has pitched, but he meets Elias’s eyes, tries to smile. “Please, keep going. I need this.”

Elias hesitates before hooking his thumbs underneath the waistband of his boxers again, starting to push them down. His cock is as impressive as it always is, standing out at half-mast as Elias takes his boxers off, tossing them aside as well so he’s left completely naked with Jon. Elias is rarely this vulnerable around him; it should matter. But when he moves over Jon, leaning down so he can kiss him again, Jon hears himself whimper, and he can’t stop himself from curling up.

“I don’t think this is working.” Elias pulls back again, frowning down at Jon. “The last thing I want to do is to force myself on you, Jon. Tell me to go.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Tears prick at Jon’s eyes, strain his throat. “I want to be with you so bad. I don’t want them to-” He sniffles, and even though he tries so hard to hold them back, his tears are already falling. “I don’t want to be ruined, but maybe I already am.”

“You are not.” Elias reaches out to rest his hand on Jon’s cheek again. “Never think of yourself as ruined. You are far above those sick men, Jon.”

Jon wants so much to believe that.

“But, I think a little help is necessary.” Elias moves over to Jon’s side, lying down next to him. “I think you need to see it, just how strong you really are. That they couldn’t destroy you even if they tried.”

That makes Jon blink. “What do you mean?” he asks, licking his dry lips.

Elias brushes the back of his hand down Jon’s cheek to his neck, soothing him.

“I mean that I literally need to show you, Jon,” he says, his voice so soft Jon almost doesn’t hear it. “You know it’s in my power now, Jon, to help people see things. Let me show you what you’re made of.”

“How?”

Elias smiles. “Just let me enter your mind.”

Jon stiffens. That’s what Elias had done to Harry and others, he knows that. It should scare him, probably, that Elias has the power to do so in the first place, but right now what really scares Jon is the idea of letting Elias inside his own head. Elias would see everything that happened. What will he think of Jon then? Jon can feel his breathing quickening, and he cringes backwards.

“Jon, please, listen to me.” Elias shuffles just a little closer, cupping Jon’s face between both of his hands. “We can’t let this haunt you forever. You deserve better than that. We need to face these memories, and you need to see just how strong and brave you are.” Something close to despair spreads into Elias’s eyes, startling Jon. “Let me help you see, Jon.”

Closing his eyes, Jon lets himself feel his fear, lets all the thoughts about Elias hating him and turning away from him to run through his mind. He lets it all shake him to the core, make his body shiver, before blowing out a breath through his lips, opening his eyes again.

"All right," he says.

Elias smiles to him again, closing the distance between them so he can kiss Jon on his forehead. "You will see soon, how much better you are than any of them could hope to be," he says, resting his forehead against Jon's.

Jon has enough time to expect it to last for a while, Elias's entrance into his mind. Instead, it's instant; Elias spreads into his mind like water, filling him, overwhelming him. Jon gasps, lifting his hands to Elias's shoulders so he can clutch them. It helps him root himself a bit, get sense of where the boundaries of himself are, but it also makes him aware of Elias's presence right there within him.

"Let us begin," Elias whispers to him, setting his arm around Jon's waist to pull him closer as the fingers of his mind thread through Jon's, awakening memories.

Jon sees himself in the car with Harry. There is no mistaking the fear on his face, no way to pretend that he isn't hopelessly small next to Harry's bulky figure.

"Look at yourself, Jon," Elias whispers, in his mind and in physical world both. "Alone in a car with a stranger who wanted to harm you. Who would have blamed you for being afraid? And yet look, you met his eyes, you kept your head held high. You were dignified, when you had all the right in the world not to be."

The scene changes to the forest, and Jon doesn't see any dignity in himself there. He sees a scared boy who is cuffed, who flees through the forest, who fights in vain when he's caught. But-

"You gave it everything you got. The odds were stacked against you, it was never fair, but you tried anyway. You fought for yourself, for us. You were very brave."

They are at the deserted house now, and fear never once leaves Jon's face as he's stripped down, as Harry uses his mouth on him, as Harry takes him. He hears Harry's vile words, flinches at them, but Elias remains unshaken within him, his hands brushing along Jon's body in reality, caressing him.

"You suffered so much, Jon, and I'm so, so sorry about that. You were afraid, of course you were, but can you see how brave you were? How you took it all, how well you bore your pain? You think, I know you do, that you were nothing there, but you weren't. You were a champion, Jon, you always were."

He can feel it as Elias turns him over to his back, lifting his legs up.

"Look at yourself, Jon." They're in the living room now, surrounded by the hungry pack, and Jon is the obvious prey animal. "You were outnumbered. They were stronger than you. But in body only, Jon, in body only. You went through hell and you lived, Jon. You were beaten down, but even when you thought all was lost, you remained strong. You could have shattered there and you didn't, and I'm beyond proud of you."

Elias pushes inside him, with ease that humiliates Jon, but his cock is solid, warm and familiar, and Jon gasps as it sinks into him, filling him to the hilt. Elias strokes his face, his hair, kissing him around on his forehead and cheeks, his nose, his lips. He rocks softly against Jon, and Jon can't stop his toes from curling as Elias presses even deeper inside him with every swaying movement, cock rubbing against his prostate.

"You are amazing, Jon. That's why I chose you for myself, why there was never any other option for me. You are perfect." Elias kisses him, his tongue stroking gently into Jon's mouth, sliding against his own tongue. "I will show you, what a wonder you are."

And Elias does.

Jon can't breathe. He is full of Elias, body and soul both, and as Elias slams into his body, he fills Jon with his desire and affection, his- Jon gasps, wrapping his legs around Elias's waist and his arms around Elias's neck as he pulls him close, as he rocks back against him.

"I love you," he whispers against Elias's lips, feeling as they smile against him.

"I love you too," Elias says. "More than I can put into words. Can you feel it?"

Jon can. He clutches Elias against himself, kissing him feverishly as Elias keeps filling his mind with himself, entwining around him until Jon doesn't know where he ends and Elias begins. All he knows is that he's cherished, that he's adored. He buries his face into Elias's neck, whimpering as Elias thrusts hard into him, his own cock poking against Elias's stomach.

"I love you," Elias repeats, his breathing harsh as he fucks Jon, as he takes him back for himself. "You belong to me, forever."

Elias's cock twitches fast inside him, his hips continuing to rock against Jon's as he comes, claiming him.

"Forever," Jon whispers, twisting his fingers into Elias's hair as he presses his face into his neck and bites down.

*

Jon falls asleep.

He dreams of Harry's house, of being pinned against the table, screaming as cocks are forced into his mouth and arse both. He yelps and startles, eyes snapping open, heart beating fast in his chest when he fails to recognize his surroundings.

"Jon, it's me!"

Elias's hand is tentative when he grasps Jon's shoulder, but Jon flings himself into his arms, burying his face into the crook of Elias's neck. Elias wraps his arms around him, embracing him tight as he cradles Jon against himself, whispering comfort into his ear.

"It's all right. You're safe now."

Jon shudders, pulling away.

"Am I really, though?" he asks, flinching at the hardness in his own voice. But he has to be honest with Elias; he owes him that, he owes both of them that. "Is it enough, what you did?"

Elias sighs, letting his arms slide off Jon.

"It will be," he says. "I made them feel everything that their victims have felt, and I also left them with the knowledge about all the things I know and what I can use against them. But if that's not enough, I will have more." Elias looks him in the eye, his mouth setting into a hard line. "I wasn't joking, Jon, when I said that I will destroy them if they dare to come after you again."

Jon softens. "I know," he says, his voice quiet. "It's just that-"

He falls silent, staring down at the bed.

"Will I be like this forever?" he asks. "Haunted?"

He closes his eyes when Elias pulls him into his arms, cradling the back of Jon's head as he kisses his forehead.

"Not forever," he whispers. "For the time being, yes, but not forever. Nothing is forever, Jon." He tips Jon's face up from his chin so he can kiss his lips, the brush of his mouth gentle against Jon's. "You are stronger than your memories, Jon. You should know that now.”

Jon still isn’t entirely sure, but he wants to believe. He thinks it’s best that he does, for his own sake; otherwise he will never be able to move on.

“Yes,” he says, leaning against Elias. “I wish it had never happened,” he confesses, voice going small.

“I wish the same, Jon.” Elias kisses him in his hair, stroking his hands along Jon’s back. “But we will move on from this, Jon. I will be there every step on the way for this, I promise you that.”

Jon rests his head on Elias’s shoulder, closing his eyes. But there is something that bothers him, and he pulls away, even though he is cold when he's away from Elias.

"I'm sorry, I have to ask." He takes in a deep breath. "You know things. It's what our God does. Did you know about this?"

The flash of pain in Elias's eyes hurts him, but Jon holds their eye contact, biting the inside of his cheek. Elias sighs again, but he faces Jon straight on.

"No," he says. "I was worried about you when you canceled our meeting, but I foolishly assumed that it was because of your grandmother. But the next day, our God informed me differently, and I tracked you down at once I realized what was happening." Elias is tense, but he keeps his eyes on Jon. "Before that, I knew nothing. I should have reacted the moment you canceled, and I regret that I didn't."

Their minds aren't connected anymore, but Jon doesn't doubt the intensity in Elias's gaze, or the heaviness in his voice. He is the one to look away first, closing his eyes for a moment as he breathes deeply in and out.

"I won't make that mistake again," Elias says, resting his hands on Jon's shoulders again. "I swear to you, Jon, I'll be better."

Jon leans forward, pressing their heartbeats together again as he wraps his arms around Elias's neck. Elias's is steady, strong against his own, and it's the most calming thing in the world.

"I believe you," Jon whispers.

They lie back down together.


End file.
